


Listening to Owen Explain the Stars

by Saturnbear



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: And Curt is prone to panicking, Cause it's my fic and I can project, Curt begins to panic, Established Relationship, Forests, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Blood, No beta we die like spies, Owen gets shot, Owen likes astronomy, Owen talks about stars, Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon, Stargazing, That's it that's the plot, The tags make it sound heavier than it actually is, it's actually pretty fluffy, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24786433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnbear/pseuds/Saturnbear
Summary: After a nasty end to a mission, Curt and Owen must take care of each other.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	Listening to Owen Explain the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing curtwen babeyy!! It's about time tbh

The air was freezing, and the surrounding trees were tall.

Curt could see his breath puff into open air, illuminated by the faint moonlight. The only warmth he could still feel came from Owen, who was pressed against Curt's side, with an arm slung around his shoulder. Owen, who also happened to have a bullet in his other arm.

"God, bleeding is a _bitch_." Owen complained, his voice clearly tired. 

"I know, Owe." Curt sighed.

Curt knew he couldn't bother to respond with anything more than that. He could listen to Owen rant in a blood loss induced fervor once they were both _safe_. Curt squeezed Owen a bit closer against him and continued to hastefully trudge through the wooded area. 

The last mission had gone well enough, until its end. They had been sent in to find a series of documents in a series of cabinets across a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. And for the most part, it had all gone swimmingly. By the time they'd collected the final file, however, one of the members of security had walked in. He was even kind enough to shoot at Owen while they made their escape. Owen ran as far as he could, but before long he was dependent on Curt's support to keep him up as they fled into the surrounding forest.

The two agents walked until they could no longer hear or see any proof of the warehouse, and then walked a bit further. With the night time cold seeping into both of their bones, Curt finally stopped.

"How're you holding up, old boy?" Curt asked. Owen shifted slightly, leaning his head against Curt's shoulder.

"I'm feeling a bit like shit, to be quite honest." He answered.

"Sounds pretty par for the course." Curt replied, kneeling slightly and shifting Owen in his arms. With some cautious maneuvering, he propped him up to sit against the closest tree.

"Christ, Love." Owen scoffed. "The wound's not serious enough to warrant sweeping me away like this." 

"You were _shot_ , Owen." Curt retorted, undoing his tie as quickly as he could. It wasn't hard to hear the panic rising in his own voice. Owen looked back up at Curt, surprised. Soon enough he turned his gaze away once more. 

"Fair point."

Curt sat beside his partner, wrapping the tie above the wound and pulling it tight. He heard Owen let out a pained hiss through clenched teeth, but paid no attention.

 _"Focus on the bleeding, dammit."_ He thought. _"Focus. Focus."_

Fishing a handkerchief from his pocket, Curt wadded it up and pressed it hard against the wound. His instincts told him to ignore the blood. He knew it shouldn't be a bother to him, he was a spy, blood never should. But seeing it from Owen felt wrong. It felt so _wrong_. Curt could hear his own pulse in his ears, and he could feel his hands shaking. His breathing quickened as time passed.

 _"Focus-"_ He thought. "Focus. Focus. Focus, focus, focus. You need to focus on something, smartass. Just need to focus, focus, _just fucking focus-"_

"You can see the stars out here." Owen spoke. He was looking at Curt again, his eyes were still tired, but now they held a certain concern. Once it was clear he had Curt's attention, he looked back up towards the sky. "They're much more clear, lack of light pollution and all." He shifted, wincing as he adjusted his posture. Raising his good arm he gestured towards the sky. "You can see the _Orion_ constellation. And his dog constellations are up there with im'." His voice was quiet, but firm. Curt took notice of how it drew his mind back to the present, slightly. Owen's voice was always nice, and he needed it now especially.

"You know shit about space?" He asked.

"You'd be surprised at all the random bull I taught myself as a kid." 

Curt offered a chuckle. "So...uh, you said Orion had dogs?"

Owen glanced back at him. "Yeah, yeah he does." He waved towards the stars. "He's got two of the things, Canis Major and Canis Minor. Major's the large guy up above Orion. Minor's the smaller one, only two stars. No clue how they saw a bloody _dog_ in that, but points to them."

Curt let out a shaking breath, loosening his shoulders and letting Owen's words wash over him. Owen clearly took notice, but did nothing to point it out. He simply continued. 

"Orion's a pretty popular one, with his bright three star belt and all. Not my favorite one, however I can grant him that much."

Curt pressed the wad of fabric a bit more, and took notice of the slowed bleeding. "Do you- have a favorite one? Constellation, that is." He asked. Owen looked back towards the sky, pursing his lips in thought.

"Cassiopeia." He spoke, after several moments. "Cassiopeia. She's supposed to be the vain queen from Greek myth."

"Anything about it stand out to you?" Curt changed to press down the fabric with his other hand. 

"I'm not sure. The stars are in a 'W' shape, and her myth is something about being a queen who left the princess to die via sea serpent. I haven't read it in years." He explained.

"Quite the dramatic tale, Carvour." Curt joked.

"Not half as dramatic as the shit you try to pull." Owen scoffed, but smiling all the same. The two laughed softly, grateful for the momentary distraction. A small silence settled in between them.

"You doing better now, Curt?" Owen piped up eventually.

"You're the one that got shot, Owe. I'm just taking care of it."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't want you doing that while you're panicking like all hell."

Curt was taken aback by that. Hearing someone address his panicking in a manner that wasn't 'get your shit together' was interesting.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing better." He eventually responded.

"That's plenty good, Love." Owen said. Cautiously, he reached his good arm, taking Curt's free hand in his. Owen's hand was absolutely frigid compared to his own. Curt instinctively interlaced their fingers, and treasured the way Owen traced circles against his knuckle.

Curt knew they couldn't be here much longer. Even if the warehouse security didn't search across the woods, Owen would need professional medical attention on his wound before long. But until they had to return to their shitty government given hotel room, Curt was perfectly content in this moment, listening to Owen explain the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Comments help motivate me a whole lot, so leaving one of those would be pretty sweet. Shout out to the saf discord for giving me the motivation and the stargazing prompt woo


End file.
